


Tease

by Loverontheleft



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Car Sex, F/M, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 12:30:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16744027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loverontheleft/pseuds/Loverontheleft
Summary: By anon request; heyyy I don’t know if you do specific eras but could you do vices!b smut where he has like the dirtiest most sinful mouth ever; like so dirty that the reader comes because of it one day and he decides to use it to his advantage in... certain... places... and it ends with him “apologizing” and then making it up to her in the bedroom?





	Tease

**Author's Note:**

> loverontheleft.tumblr.com for dirty talk and requests <3

Brendon has always known you were an empath. You’re so sensitive to other people that even if they say the word ‘yawn,’ you’re fighting one back. He goes into sad movies knowing you’ll bawl; he always has tissues ready. Everything a “normal” person feels, you once explained, you feel at least double when it comes to emotions or relating to others. Sometimes the world is just too much.

He knows all of this. He just didn’t realize the extent to which it applied to his mouth.

* * *

  
You’re curled up together on the couch and he’s channel surfing, obviously bored by everything currently on tv. You yawn and stretch a little and, as your back arches, you inadvertently press against him. His hand curves over your hip and pulls you back against him so you can feel the growing bulge.

“Shit, Brendon,” you murmur, wiggling back and working your hand back between your bodies to cup him. “You feel good.”

He props himself up on one arm and licks a light path along the shell of your ear. “I should be saying that to you,” he whispers, nuzzling your neck before inhaling. “God, you smell good too.”

You grin, rolling in his arms to face him, fingers still stroking him through his pants. “Thanks, B, I showered.”

He rolls his eyes and pokes you gently in the side. “Dork.” You agree, snuggling close and locking your free hand around his neck as you let your eyes flutter shut. “Y/n, are you going to sleep?” He sounds disbelieving. You don’t look up but nod and he groans. “Why? I thought we were going to mess around!”

You pull back to look at him, amused. “And why would you think that?”

“Because...because you just…and your hand...you’re...” he’s stammering and you look on, giggling.

“I’m kidding. Kiss me.”

“You little tease,” he growls playfully, catching your chin and bringing your mouth to his. Despite the timbre of his voice, his lips are gentle, almost caressing yours, and you moan, clutching his shirt in your fist. His other hand goes to the small of your back so he can hold you against him, and you spread your legs a little to let him rock against you.

“Bren, that feels really good.” He stops short and you look up at him. “Why did you-“

“Because it’s my turn to tease you.”

You feel a shiver of pleasure go through you and you brace yourself. Usually, his teasing is hours between your legs, edging you torturously until he finally lets you come, usually on his fingers or thigh first, but if you behave, he’ll let your first be on his tongue. “Okay, I deserve that. But don’t forget we have dinner with my parents in an hour.”

His eyes light up. “I’m going to be honest, it did slip my mind, but you’ve reminded me and oh baby, you don’t even know what you’ve just done to yourself.”

You look at him, perplexed. “What on earth…?”

He's laughing a little, and he kisses your forehead.   
“Go get ready for dinner Y/n. If it’s in an hour, we probably need to leave in about forty minutes.” You stand up and walk to the bathroom, still confused.

“You’re being weird, Brendon.”

“Oh darling, you have no idea.”

You’re sitting in front of your vanity, carefully lining your lips when he comes into the room and starts to change. “What is my dress code, dear? Is this suspenders and bow tie level, or more jacket and tie?”

You pause, looking at him in the mirror. He’s shirtless, just in tight pants that do very flattering things for him, and you catch your breath. “Uhm. I don’t know.” You can’t really focus when he’s leaning against the door like that.

He nods thoughtfully. “If I go with suspenders, it’ll give you something to hold onto when I’m between your legs, licking your clit.” You flush, lip pencil trembling a little. “But if I go with jacket and tie, I’ll be able to bind your wrists behind your back when you’re sucking me off in the car later.” He looks back at you, an eyebrow raised. “What do you think?” You can’t speak, lips parted slightly, and he nods. “You’re absolutely right baby. I can wear the suspenders under my jacket with the tie. Such a good point.”

He walks into the closet and you gasp for air, realizing you’ve forgotten to breathe. “Fuck,” you whisper, staring at yourself in the mirror. “Fuck.” With shaking hands, you go to finish your makeup before he can distract you again. This is a new form of torture and you’re really not sure to what extent he’s dragging this, but the glint in his eyes has you equally aroused and wary.

He comes back out and you glance up. He’s holding two black dresses. “I think you should wear one of these. This one,” he indicates the dress on the left, “ is short enough that I can finger you in the car on the way there. But this one,” he shakes the dress on the right, “is a wrap dress, which means if we need to pull over for a quickie, it’s easy to get off - just like you, m’dear. So really I don’t think you can choose wrong - which do you prefer?” Your eyes meet his in the mirror, and you’re silently pleading with him to stop, and he grins innocently. “No opinion? Wrap dress it is then. Besides, I can just as easily play with your pussy in this dress. I think it’s the obvious choice.” He hangs it up on the door along with his jacket and winks at you. He then bounds over to the bed, laying across it on his stomach, watching you. “Damn baby, you’re so pretty. I love watching you get ready, knowing I’m going to be the one to mess up that lipstick when you get down on your knees for me and I fuck your mouth. It’s the adult version of building a Lego tower just to knock it down. Fucking hell, y/n, I love wrecking you.” His tone is neutral, level, and there’s not a hint of desire in him- except for his eyes. His eyes are dark and burning, and you shiver a little when they meet yours.

“Brendon Urie, you are a tease,” you hiss, trying to still your breathing so you can apply mascara.   
He ignores your comment and focuses on the wand in your hand.

“Jesus, and don’t even get me started on the rest of your makeup. Better than Sex, my ass. TooFaced has never seen us in action. You look so good when we go out but by the time I get you home and in bed, everything about your face would tell people how good I fucked you. Mascara smudged under your eyes, lipstick smeared, foundation missing from all the marks on your jawline that prove you’re mine. They would need to rebrand after seeing you when we’re done. Don’t get me wrong, you still look fucking sexy as hell, but I don’t know that I’d let you out of the house. That look is for my eyes only.”

You squirm a little in your chair, feeling how damp your underwear is, and whimper a little. “Brendon, please,” you whisper, and he grins.

“You’re begging already? I haven’t even touched you baby.” You glare at him and he keeps grinning. “Ready to go?” You nod. “Oh, and are you ready to leave for dinner?” Your eyes narrow when you realize what he’s said and he chuckles. “Let’s go, baby, I have plans for you.”

You slip your arms into the dress and he wraps it, dropping to his knees before you and tying it expertly as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, lips parting and tongue teasing. You moan a little at his touch and he smiles up at you. “You like this, baby? Me down on my knees for you?” You nod weakly, and he kisses your thigh again, suckling gently. You feel your knees start to give out and as you crumble, both of his hands shoot up and grab your ass, supporting you and your hands grasp his shoulders. “No, no baby, you can’t be hitting the floor for me just yet. We have to have a nice dinner with your parents. Then we can play.”

You whimper internally, not sure that you’ll make it through dinner at this rate, digging your fingers into his shoulders. “Okay. Take me to dinner, Brendon.” You steady yourself and he stands, pulling you flush against him, lips just barely brushing over yours. You lean in, desperate for him, and he leans back, just barely evading you with a smile. “Tease,” you murmur, licking your lips.

“You love it,” he retorts, before leading you out of the house.

You’re in the car and he’s got one hand curved over your thigh as he drives and you’re itching for him to press lower or move higher or something, anything really. You get your wish when he has to tap a little harder on the brakes than normal; the car in front of you stopped short. The motion has his hand pressing against your core briefly and you let out a quiet whimper. He looks over at you, an eyebrow raised. “You good, baby?” You nod weakly and he smiles. “Okay. Could have sworn I heard something from you just now when the back of my hand was against you but I’m probably imagining things.”

You’re riding in silence for a minute when he looks over at you with a grin. “What?” You’re cautious. This is almost definitely a trap so he can keep teasing you. He just shakes his head with a smile. “What??” And just like that…This is what your mother always warned you about; your stubborn persistence outweighing your sense self-preservation - of course, she probably didn’t mean it in the context of your boyfriend teasing you sexually without mercy and you setting yourself up for something, but who’s to say? “Brendon Boyd Urie, so help me god, if you don’t quit smirking at me and tell me what you’re thinking -“

He interrupts you with a playful grin. “Ohhh I’m in trouble with the full name! But now you want to know what I’m thinking? Sweet baby, love of my heart, light of my life, I thought you’d never ask.” You groan internally. This was a mistake. This was a big mistake. “Currently, I’m going over various scenarios in which I can lure you away from the table without your parents being suspicious, because I know I won’t make it through dinner without eating what I really have a craving for. Although something else to consider is how early we’re going to be. I’m trying to figure out if I can have you as an appetizer in the back of this car. But that doesn’t seem like a great plan...I don’t think I’ll be able to stop, because goddamn if your pussy isn’t a 5-course meal, I don’t know what is.” 

  
“Brendon…” you whimper, closing your eyes. He has no idea what he is doing to you. There’s a coiling in your stomach that is tightening and tightening with every stroke of his fingers along your thigh. You can practically feel his tongue between your legs and your brain feels like a bag of Pop Rocks has been dumped on it.

He’s still talking. “I mean baby, if I could live between those thighs, I would in a heartbeat. My god. You don’t even know. Jesus, sometimes I catch myself daydreaming about just running my tongue over you, thinking about how beautiful your pussy is, especially when you’re wet and ready for me...and don’t even get me started on how you taste. I would choose you over beer. I would choose you over whiskey. I would choose you over bourbon. Pick any liquor, I’d choose you hands down. You’re so sweet Y/n, god, and those little sounds you make when I get my tongue on you for the first time, they get me so fucking ha- are you okay?”

You’re breathing hard, swearing under your breath, hand clenching his on your trembling thigh, head tipped back with your eyes shut. “Baby, if I didn't know any better, I’d think you just ca-“

“Shut. Up.” The words leave your mouth in a sharp hiss. You’re at the red light just before the restaurant and he looks over at you, surprised. Not hurt, just surprised. You take his hand, the one on your thigh, and slip it between your legs. His eyes widen when he feels your pussy, wet and trembling post-orgasm, and you glare at him. “This is your fault, Urie.”

His face is a mixture of delight and shock. “Y/n, baby, I do not know what to even say.”

You shoot him a look. “An apology would be a great place to start. And then I would say nothing else for a while since that’s what got us here.” He grins and leans over to kiss your cheek, which you lean into. You’re annoyed but you’re not mad, and you do love his lips.

“What if…I’m not sorry?” You pull back to stare at him. He continues. “I mean, obviously I’m sad that you’re upset but that’s not an apology, that’s putting the onus on you and that’s not fair. I would have to be sorry for the things I said, and I am not. I regret none of them. I stand by every word that came out of my mouth. You could read them in a court of law and I wouldn’t deny them.” You huff, crossing your arms. “And further, that was pretty fucking hot. I think I have reached a new level of accomplishment. I got you off without even touching you.” He’s parked by this point and as you go to unbuckle, he hauls you across the center console and into his lap, facing him. “Don’t be mad, baby.” He presses chaste kisses to your neck and you feel your resolve weaken.

“I’m not mad, Bren. I’m more embarrassed than anything else.” Now he really looks stunned.

“Baby, no! Don’t be embarrassed! Y/n, please don’t be embarrassed. I think it’s so hot, so sexy.” He’s cupping your face in both hands and looking at you earnestly. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. I promise.” You nod and groan. “Am I forgiven?” He whispers this question through a kiss and you nod. “Thank you, baby. Now let’s go enjoy dinner with your parents.”

He starts to lift you off of his lap and you hold up one hand to stop him. “Hang on. I can’t wear these all night.” You wriggle out of your wet underwear and tuck them into his pocket. “Your prize, sir.” You slip out of his lap and rise from the car. He scrambles out after you, taking your hand. You pause to look at him softly. “I love you, Bren.”

He smiles back at you radiantly. “I love you too baby. Come here.” He pulls you to him and kisses you deeply, hands caressing your back as his tongue explores your mouth. You, regretfully, put both hands on his chest and push yourself back.

“You’ve already gotten one out of me, we both know how easy the next few are. We need to behave. You need to behave.” You give him a serious look and he nods, holding up three fingers, scout’s honor style.

You’re maybe halfway through your appetizer and your mom has gone to the bathroom when Brendon and your dad start discussing steak. “Medium-rare is the way to go. Such gorgeous shades of pink and red, so tender and juicy, God, I would live and die in a steak like that.” Your eyes widen and you kick him lightly under the table.

“Stop it,” you mouth and Brendon smiles at you innocently as he starts running a foot up your calf. Your dad notices none of this and is trying to explain to Brendon why medium is a better choice, and you’re dying slowly. Brendon picks up his wine glass and takes a sip slightly too big, causing a drop of Cabernet to linger on his lower lip. He meets your eyes as the tip of his tongue darts out to swipe his lip clean and you’re digging your nails into your thighs.

Brendon turns to your father. “Jack, I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to be rude - I left my phone in the car - Y/n, will you see if Zack has sent an update on our flight for tomorrow morning?”

Your dad looks interested so, fortunately for Brendon, he doesn’t see your confused face.

“Where are you headed?” Brendon starts talking extensively about scouting locations for an upcoming video.

You’re curious, so you pull out your phone and feel your eyes narrow when you read the first line. “Don’t be mad; I love you.” You cut your eyes at Brendon and see him tacitly ignore you as he continues to discuss video production with your father and mother, who has returned. You continue reading and feel your face flush.

“Loved having you in my lap in the car baby; the way that wrap dress fell open and left you open for me was such a tease (I know I’m one to talk). I seriously can’t wait to lay you out on our bed and get my face in between your legs, really get your juices all over me. Fuck, baby, I wanna lick and suck that gorgeous pussy until you’re coming on my face, begging for more. I want to get you so wet for me that I can touch you and be able to jack myself off and not have to stop until I’m coming for you. I want to make you come so hard with my fingers and tongue that we have to change the goddamn sheets and -“

There’s more to the text but you can’t do it; you can feel your second orgasm rushing towards you. You scramble up from your chair. “I’ll be right back,” you whisper, and bolt for the bathroom. You hear your parents exchange concerns and Brendon offers to go check on you. He’s not nearly in the rush that you are but ends up in the bathroom hallway moments after you and finds you leaning against the wall, trembling all over and chest heaving. Your eyes open and you see him and that face and those lips and you are so close. “Urie, you fucking -“

He cuts you off by crushing his mouth over yours and sliding a hand inside your dress, rocking two fingers up into you. You cry out into his mouth and he kisses you harder, thrusting his fingers through your orgasm. “That’s it, baby, come for me, come on my fingers, such a good girl, yes baby, I love you so much, I love feeling you come on me, fuck, I can’t wait to get you on my face.” He’s murmuring against your lips and you moan as a third rips through you. His free hand is wrapped around your waist, clutching you to him and your fingers are tangled in his hair as you come down from your high.

You’re still trembling against him and his lips are pressed to your forehead. “That wasn’t nice.” He looks confused and you clarify. “That text. You knew exactly what you were doing.” He smirks a little and kisses you lightly on the lips. “And I am not happy with you.”

“No?” He starts stroking you again, grinning when you whimper. “You sound pretty happy.” You glare and he holds up his free hand in surrender. “Or not. My bad. Should I take you home now?”

You look at him incredulously. “Uh, yes. You are going to go out there and make an excuse to my parents, take me home, get my order to go or get me food on the way, and then you have some real apologizing to do.”

His eyes light up. “Please tell me you mean something filthy when you say ‘apologizing,’ baby, because it’s exactly where my mind has gone.”

“How you apologize is up to you, but I swear Brendon, you owe me big right now.” He looks delighted and kisses you lightly on the lips.

“Don’t you worry baby, I will make it up to you.” You look a mess, so your parents don’t question the need for you to go home when you say you’re ill. Brendon pays the bill and gets your food boxed up before escorting you out to the car.

Once you’re home, you head right for the bathroom and turn on the shower. “I will be out momentarily. You can eat without me.” The shower is hot and relaxing and everything you need it to be, so when you finally get out (and see he’s set out your favorite of his t-shirts for you), you’re feeling far more at ease. You slip into the shirt and head downstairs to find him reclining on the couch in a pair of sweatpants and nothing else. “Damn, you’re sexy,” you comment, leaning against the railing. He turns and grins, seeing you bare-legged with the hem of his shirt barely keeping you covered.

“Hello pot, I’m the kettle.” He extends a hand and beckons you over. You saunter over, dropping onto the couch and curling up on top of him, legs spread over his hips. “I haven’t eaten yet. Figured we’d eat together before or after.” You shrug, snuggling into his chest. “Are you hungry, baby?” You shake your head a little, breathing him in. “Then let’s eat after,” he decides, stroking your hair. You nod a little, and he kisses the top of your head. “I’m sorry I was mean,” he whispers and you look up at him.

“It’s okay. I wasn’t exactly super sweet either. I was kinda bitchy about everything.” He frowns, running a finger down your cheek.

“Don’t say that. You were only upset because I kept pushing you.”

You smile a little, wiggling up to kiss his lips. “Let’s agree that we both weren’t at our best and we’re both sorry and we’re both accepting it and moving on.” He smiles back, rubbing his nose against yours.

“Agreed. Now, where would madame like her apology? Madame has the choice of our lovely sectional with the romantic glow of the tv or our exquisite bed with soft candlelight. The house recommends the bed, but Madame is free to choose.” You giggle and pretend to think.

“Madame believes she will take the house recommendation of the bed.” He nods and stands up, scooping you up into his arms and carrying you up the stairs. You tighten your legs around his waist and sigh happily when his lips find your neck to start pressing open-mouthed kisses. You’ve finally made it to the bedroom and he places you at the head so you’re reclining against the pillows. He moves to the end of the bed and goes into what appears to be some form of child’s pose, except he’s looking up at you. “Bren, what are you doing?”

He grins and starts to wiggle back and forth. “Pouncing.” You’re about to ask another question when he does just that - pounces and grabs you by the hips. You shriek with laughter when he starts playfully growling and nipping at your thighs, before leaning over your body and burying his face in your neck while making ridiculous noises and lightly biting at you. “Om nom nom nom nom,” he growls, tickling your sides.

“Brendon, what the hell?” You’re gasping for air, tears streaming from laughing, and he looks up at you seriously.

“I’m eating you. Om. Nom. Nom. Nom.” With each sound, he presses a kiss to your neck, slowly moving lower and lower. You’re wiping at your eyes, still laughing. “Or is this not what you had in mind?” His eyes twinkle up at you playfully, and you shake your head. “Oh baby, I know what you really want. I won’t even make you say it.” He inches his way back down your body, leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses as he goes. “You want my lips on your pussy, licking and lapping at your clit until you’re soaking wet for me and I can slide my fingers in with no resistance. You want me touching and tasting you until you can’t stand it?” You nod weakly, lacing your fingers through his hair, and he smiles softly. “Well, I live and love to please.” Gently, he spreads your legs wider and presses his lips to the inside of your thigh. You let out a quiet moan and he looks up at you. “I don’t want to tease you anymore. I’ve tortured you enough. Tell me exactly what you want.”

You sigh happily, rolling your hips up to his mouth. “Just make me feel good Bren.”

He grins. “That, m’dear, I can do.” His tongue is moving over you in soft strokes while his thumbs massage the inside of each thigh, and his eyes have slipped shut as his mouth opens and closes. He’s being so gentle with you, and you think you might pass out. “Is this good, baby?” His voice is soft and you nod languidly. “Just want you to feel good.”

“Trust me, Bren, I feel really good.” His tongue is delving deeper now and his thumbs have moved farther in to spread you wide for him. He increases his pace and pressure a little bit, moaning against you when you grip his hair. “That feels amazing,” you whisper, and he nods. “Baby - Bren - can you -“ your words are coming in fragments; you can feel yourself getting close - “softer with your tongue and add two fingers?”

“So fucking sexy, you knowing what you need to get off, baby.” He takes your requests and plays with your clit lightly with his tongue while his fingers press into you, stroking the sides of your labia. You arch your back when his fingers hit a good spot and he does it again, gazing up at you from between your legs. You’re whimpering, rocking your hips gently into his touch, and he watches you. “Is this okay?” He murmurs the question into your pussy while his fingers slide back and thrust deep, and you manage to suppress the low moan that bubbles up in you.

“Fuck yes, Brendon, it’s so good.” Your fingers tighten in his hair and you spread your legs wider. “But I need more baby, more of your mouth,” you tell him and he nods. He’s slipping his fingers out of you to go back to covering you with his mouth, softly, alternately between slowly letting his tongue roll out against your folds and sucking lightly. “God, yeah,” you whimper, and he keeps going, wriggling in closer to get more access.

“Fucking love eating you, baby, fuck, you are incredible,” he groans when he pulls back to breathe hard, resting his head against your thigh. You look down at him, his lips and chin slick with you, eyes dark with want, and you can’t help but moan at the sight. “God, baby, Y/n, will you sit on my face?”

“Sweet lord Bren, as if I’d say no, with you down between my legs, looking like that.” You’re incredulous and willfully let yourself be rolled over to your stomach so you can pull back and sit up. He crawls up the bed into your place, settling down into the pillows and adjusting one under his neck.

“Commere baby.” He’s breathing hard again, pupils fully dilated, and you sling a leg over him and kneel over his chest. Carefully, he guides your hips into place so you’re reclining against his collarbone and he can curve an arm around behind you to give you more support. “Fuck yes,” he moans as you settle into place and he goes back to the soft licking and sucking that had you close before. His tongue is rolling over you, really tasting you, and he brings his other hand back, resting it on your hip. “Can I?” He lets the question hang as he applies pressure to your hip with two fingers. You nod eagerly and he slips his hand up to slide his fingers in and spread you wide for his tongue. With more access, he can really stroke you and tease your clit with light flicks of the tip of his tongue. You cry out with pleasure as he rocks you closer at a better angle with his arm. “God, baby, can’t wait to feel you come all over my face like this.”

“Fuck,” you hiss, closing your eyes. “I’m really close.”

“D’you need anything different, baby, or are you gonna come?”

“Don’t fucking change a goddamn thing,” you whisper, moaning again when he returns to his ministrations. “God, yeah Bren, right there. Suck just a li- sweet fuck, don’t stop, fuck fuck fuck oh god -“ It’s hitting you hard so he curls his fingers forward and you can’t stifle the scream. “Fuck, Brendon, yes!”

“Ride my face baby, don’t hold back, let yourself feel it.” His words are muffled by your pussy but you catch the gist and give in, rolling and thrusting against his mouth. He keeps up with you, tongue and fingers working hard, and you’re thinking that you might come again when he sucks gently. “Give me one more baby, come for me one more time.” His words push you over just as he reaches up to brush a slick thumb over your nipple. The sensation rips through you and you’re panting hard, hands in his hair.

“Holy hell.” You manage to whisper, coming down from it. You glance down and see his dark eyes sparkling from between your thighs and you can tell (and also feel) his smile. “Fuck, Bren, I love you.”

“I love you too baby. Am I forgiven?” He looks eager as he licks over you gently and into the corners of his mouth, collecting your taste.

“If I say yes…”

“Then we’re going again to celebrate your mercy and grace.”

“Yes.”


End file.
